Daily Emerald/Stella Fetherston

Now well into July, summer is officially in full swing. The gorgeous weather Oregonians have been patiently anticipating through a slog of gray clouds and nonstop drizzle has arrived. But, my goodness is it scorching hot, especially when mounted on a black bike on top of black pavement. As the sunshine grows more intense, it’s time to put my sweat to good use.

My first big ride with my fresh new bike called for a swift 20-minute drive from my house in Portland to the dainty town of Banks, home to the trailhead of the Banks-Vernonia State Trail — an Oregon scenic bikeway. The beginning of the trail is flat as a pancake and delightfully blanketed by a thick tree line. During a quick pit stop, a local farmer and their friendly horse trotted by, much to my wide-eyed amusement. It was the first of many animal encounters that day, including a seemingly endless amount of scampering bunnies. I was absolutely gunning it for an electric, serene first three miles, blissfully unaware of the horrors ahead.

The first fork in the road came when I approached glaring red signs and caution tape, explaining that the subsequent portion of the trail was closed off for maintenance. A small backtrack led me to Highway 26, where I cruised alongside noisy vehicles sprinting by. It was strangely fun biking alongside metal death machines, mainly because it felt like there was a lot of attention directed my way. It’s not everyday you see someone cycling along such a dangerous road. My highway stint didn’t last long as I veered off toward back roads, attempting to return to the accessible remainder of the trail. I began to notice a gradual incline before my fun turned to pain. The next few miles ranged from excruciatingly steep hills to steady, but exhausting climbs.

After passing through a rural neighborhood, I finally met back with the Banks-Vernonia State Trail where a beautiful trestle bridge awaited me. I paused for a moment, taking in the lonesome views, pondering my progress so far and questioning whether my goal was worth working for. But, in realizing more fascinating trail secrets would likely litter the next couple of months, I was instantly reassured.

While I might not have made it all the way to Vernonia — a prospect I considered halfway through — I still made it farther than initially anticipated. My legs weren’t giving out, but it was about to get dark and I was well out of water. If I went any further, I risked finishing the ride without sunlight. “It’s all downhill from here” isn’t typically a phrase you want to hear, but in this situation, it’s a pleasure. I was zooming so fast down hills that I barely had to put my feet to pedal. While I concluded the ride absolutely parched and exhausted, I was stoked to have executed a 25-mile ride without too much adversity.

My apparent lack of water supply meant it was time for some new gear. I purchased a CamelBak for long rides with pockets to put my belongings in. Although it only happened once, I no longer have to worry about my phone flying out of my pocket.

The next ride was the toughest yet, and by no small margin. Not only was it boiling outside, with temperatures nearing triple digits, but the bottoms of my feet were terribly blistered from playing too much pick-up basketball. Luckily, there’s nothing a little blister tape can’t temporarily alleviate. The real problem was the hills and my lack of direction, freestyling a route around my neighborhood. To add insult to injury, I was on a time crunch and foolishly only filled my CamelBak halfway. I have never gone so gruelingly slow trying to make it up a few of these hills. My legs were on fire and I was at my breaking point. As I begrudgingly walked my bike up the final hill, drenched in sweat and loopy with dehydration, I once again rethought the feasibility of my ambitions. I made it home half-dead having nearly passed out from heat exhaustion. I’m glad I pushed myself, but I need to be smarter in the future.

You’re probably thinking that two rides for one entry doesn’t sound like enough, and you’d be right. If I’m going to reach my goal — biking from Portland to Eugene in one day — I’m going to have to up the ante and up the reps. It’s scary, it’s exciting, but more importantly, it’s doable. Despite thoughts that I might be in over my head, I’m confident I will complete my mission come September.